Comparing Virginia Woolf's Visit To Insects

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Bugs are everywhere. They swarm and wiggle around on the floor and the walls. Their appearance is grotesque, almost horrifying, yet they have an undeniable allure. It isn't fear that holds my gaze but a curiosity of power. I stand over insects, whose lives are short, nearly meaningless. I often wish they would all die. These house bugs aren't proactively going after their environmental duties, they will die in this building serving no purpose other than to leave their skeletons in the corner. This opinion is lent to insects outside too, I don't care for them even when I come across them in their rightful environments. Humans are often compared to insects. Virginia Woolf wrests the insights of a moth's last moments concerning death and morality

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